addiction is a fucking liar

Lessons from a year of Solitude and Self-Discovery

So here I am, over a year into my so-called "realignment." What am I trying to align? My brain mostly, really bad thinking for awhile, kind of being a pussy for a few years. I’m just me. Nothing spectacular, nothing special. Just a guy from Southern California who got married, had two amazing daughters, and spent years climbing the corporate ladder as an executive. And then shit got really fucking crazy.

I was living in Dallas but working in Kolkata. If you don’t know where that is, you should get out more. A 35-hour commute to work will break you after a few years. Three weeks in India, nine days back in Dallas to see my girls, then repeat. Eventually, I said fuck it and started my own consulting company. That worked for three years. Then COVID hit, and guess what? No one hires consultants during a global pandemic. My company was dead.

So I did the next logical thing. Went back to college to learn programming because I wanted to hack shit. And as a side gig? I became a drug addict. No need for details. It was a dark time. Burned through a couple hundred grand, lost more friends than I can count. Not because I stole from them or pulled some addict bullshit. Just because drug addicts are assholes, and no one wants to be around them. Except other drug addicts, of course.

Aside from the loss of money, integrity, and self-confidence, I did gain something from my addiction. Codependency. Fun stuff. Who doesn’t want to spend years in a toxic relationship that’s somehow worse than the dope that got you there? I won’t go into details, name names, or rehash the bullshit. Why? Because I’m actually working to put that shit behind me.

Codependency is when you lose yourself in someone else’s chaos, mistaking their problems for your purpose. You stay in toxic relationships because leaving feels worse than suffering. Their needs come first, their moods dictate your day, their validation becomes your drug. It’s addiction without the substances—just the slow, grinding erosion of who you are. Just another addiction. I had to break the cycle.

So, change your number. You can block them, but they will find you. Move if you have to. They’ll show up at your door, all apologetic and loving. Fuck that. I broke the cycle. My circle is small now. I can count my real friends on one hand and still have a finger left—usually the middle one.

A year into celibacy. A year of just me. Figuring out who I really am. Wrestling demons from the past, trying to ignore my fear of tomorrow, and learning to live in the moment.

As for sobriety, I’ve been clean for a long time. I don’t do meetings, I don’t keep track of my sober date. I don’t even remember what day it is. I just don’t do hard drugs anymore. Some people call it "California Sober." Some people hate that term and don’t believe you are truly sober. Whatever. It works for me, and that’s what matters. What I’m sober from is doing drugs that are harder than I am. They were, and I fucked myself, so I decided to un-fuck myself.

Now I do art. I write. I spend time with my kids. They have their own lives now, but I see them a lot, and it makes me happy. I forgot what made me happy. For a while, I thought it was drugs, casual sex, and being the life of the party. Yeah, not so much. Convincing yourself you’re happy is how addiction keeps you there. Addiction is a fucking liar.

It hasn’t been easy. I still have flashes, memories that make me want to crawl in a hole or pick up a dope pipe. Meditation helps. Not remembering the “fun” parts, but the times I felt weak, useless, embarrassed by my own behavior. The moments that remind me I never want to be that again.

I want to be strong. I enjoy emotional maturity. I enjoy not being insane.

Late at night, I used to feel lonely and unwanted. But then I reminded myself—I want me. I want me to be healthy, happy, and whole. That’s on me. No one else. It hasn’t been easy, but I don’t need validation. I’m good with who I am. And that’s enough.

Thank you for reading. The inner machinations of my mind are an enigma. Especially to me.